


Niall's Get-Away

by Bittodeath



Category: Wicked Lovely Series - Melissa Marr
Genre: Angst, Beating, Betrayal, Break Up, Canon Related, I don't know if it is graphic or not, M/M, Pre-Canon, bittersweet love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 01:17:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6883147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall discovers Irial's bruig and starts to try to save the girls, offering his life in exchange.<br/>Irial accepted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Niall's Get-Away

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so Irial is my favorite character and his relationship to Niall is just beautiful and tragic, so I wrote this a while ago and decided to share it.

Niall looked in horror to the mortals assembled in front of him. _It can’t be_. It couldn’t be. He had nothing to do with them. He hadn’t do anything. _You have. This is your fault._ Horror and disgust struck him with violence. It was indeed is fault. Because he was a Gancanagh. Because he had indulged himself in carnal pleasures without thinking about what happened to his mortal girls. _They were here._ He shivered. He would never have done that if he had known what the consequences were. _The blood. The wounds. The madness. The craving._

A girl came up to him, smiling confusingly, her hair tangled, her skin cut all over her body, her blue eyes having lost all track of reason. She was nothing but madness, flesh asking for unutterable pleasures until death comes. She staggered and fell into his arms, holding on to his muscular chest. Dark Court Faeries were there, wandering around, taking what they wanted and leaving nothing but death, agony and madness. He turned around and looked at Irial.

“How… How could you…”  
“I’m Dark Court, and I’m King. I have to take care of my faeries. I give them nourishment. You were happy receiving it, weren’t you?”  
“But this… These mortals… You’re driving them to madness, to death!”  
“This is what my court needs, Niall. This is what you need.”  
“I will no longer take part to this… monstrosity! Irial, let them go! They have families waiting for them, lovers, parents…”  
“I can’t.”  
“But why?” said Niall, feeling powerless. “Why can’t you…?”  
“We need their emotions. Pleasure. Greed. Lust. Pain. Anger. They feed us. I can’t expose my court to this.” A light sparkled into his eyes, enhancing his faery-like beauty. He was Temptation embodied, he was whatever a human heart could desire. His hands cupped Niall’s chin. “Forget about it. You can’t do anything about them, unless it’s giving them pleasure.”

 

There was a silence between them, even though faeries and mortals were making a terrifying racket all over the _bruig_. Niall was staring at Irial, the Dark King once Gancanagh that he had grown to love. They were as closer as to faeries could be. They shared everything. He had learned so much to Irial’s side. Nonetheless, he didn’t know about the mortals. He hadn’t see the depths of Irial’s cruelty. He hadn’t see his conviction to protect his court. Or perhaps he hadn’t been willing to accept this part of him.

He couldn’t even fathom the depth of his will. Irial was ready to sacrifice everything for his court. Even if it were difficult to him. He was King and as such, he held on to his responsibilities, as he had for centuries. _Would he be willing to sacrifice his dear friend to his court? Probably._ Niall shook off his hand and stared into his eyes.

“You need emotions, don’t you? Anyone will do as long as it’s dark emotions?”  
“We just need to feed, Niall.” Irial smiled wryly. “Why, you’d want to choose from whom we feed?”  
“Take it from me.”  
“What?”  
“Your nourishment. Take it from me. Let me replace those mortals.”  
“Fool. Let’s go, we’ve got nothing to do here anymore.”  
“I’m serious, Irial. Take me in their places.”  
“You’d do that? No, you’d not.”

Niall’s wrath fired up. He turned his back to Irial and seized two girls hanging around a thistle-fey. He throw them out, seized two more.

“Stop it now, Niall! That’s enough. Stop this silly game of yours!”  
“No I will not! They don’t deserve this treatment.”  
“So what, you’re asking me to let my court starve?” His voice was sharp and anger was making it tremble. “I will NOT allow this!”

His outburst made the girls cringe and, as if for a second they had regained consciousness, they started to get away from him. He was obviously furious. Each and every one were staring at him, feeling his emotions that he concealed right away. He didn’t want to share those with his people. Not with what he was about to do. His Shadowy Figures crawled out from his skin, stroking his hair, face and chest as if to comfort him. He gritted his teeth and they leaped toward Niall.

He tried to avoid them, but it was already too late. They held him tightly, waiting for Irial’s command. The faery king didn’t let his eyes go of Niall’s. There were no emotions getting through them, a smile appeared on his lips and, within a second, he had become the Dark King. The one that ruled over the court of Nightmares and Un-Named things, the one that almost everyone feared. A powerful, cruel and determined one.

“He is yours. Just don’t kill him.”

A cry echoed through the _bruig_ , instantly covered up by hundreds of howls, screeching, scratching, teeth biting through pulsing flesh, claws digging just to seek pleasure and find blood. Faery blood. Irial had just glimpsed the horror that had struck Niall when he had understood that his King had gave him to his court. That he had been forsaken. Out-casted. The Dark King wanted to turn his back to him. He didn’t want to see his pain, his disgust, his anger. He didn’t want to face the one he had betrayed. The one he loved.

But he was the Dark King and he couldn’t be weak. His eyes stared without failing the place where Niall had disappeared. Blood was splashing and, through the cheerful, joyous screams of his own kind, he heard Niall. He couldn’t help but tighten his fist. He opened up his senses and tasted his emotions. Bitter emotions. The crowd splayed, revealing the faery that had been given to them. He was naked, covered with blood – his own blood – and wounds were covering his body, intertwined as red threads discovering his flesh. One injury was particularly atrocious, starting from his temple and ending on his cheek.

_He’s beautiful._ Irial couldn’t look away from his pained face, from his broken body. He had never been as beautiful as in this instant, tortured and scattered, his bloody blond hair brushing against his manly jaw, his eyes wide opened as pain and pleasure filled his body while a thistle-fey stroked his ivory-like skin. Irial didn’t hear him anymore, even though he shouted and growled. He was just seeing his mouth drooling and bleeding, reminding him of their heated nights together. He remembered that there were cries as well, as Niall indulged in this painful pleasure only Irial was able to provide.

_I can’t be weak and you know that, Niall._ Irial closed his eyes and inspired, feeling his lungs with the air charged with feelings. Niall’s conscience was fading away, sweeping away his emotions as well. His eyes were still opened, but he was drifting away. It was too much pain for him to bear. Some faeries got away from the feast and quickly, most of the faeries were gone, leaving Ly Ergs licking the blood on Niall’s body. Then, they left as well. Niall was nothing more than a wound. Blood had dripped from every inch of his skin, from every cut caused by claws, teeth or thistles. His mouth and his insides had been bleeding too. But the bleeding had stopped and all that was left was pulsing flesh and sticky hair.

He was lying motionless on the ground, on his martyrized torso, his cheek resting on the floor and his eyes closed. He probably no longer had the strength nor the will to move. Just asking for Death to come and take his suffering shadow with him. Strong faeries did not die easily, but he was likely to wish for it. Irial stood up from his seat, took a cigarette in his silver cigarette holder and lighted it up. Niall was still breathing slowly, as if it hurt. It was surely the reason, to be true. He squatted, grinned his cigarette on the ground next to Niall’s face and ran his fingers through Niall’s hair.

“Don’t touch me”, growled Niall feebly.  
“Why not?” Irial asked, brushing his muscular back, fascinated by the pink-red shade of his flesh under his skin. The flesh of the one he loved. “My belov-“  
“Do NOT call me like this. You mean nothing to me.”

Irial’s heart was turning to ashes. He knew Niall would hate him for this. But hearing his voice saying it with this painful, resentful tone was terrible. He wanted to hold him, to comfort him. But he had out-casted him and made sure he was carved into his body and, for that, Niall would never forgive him. He knew it. He rose up and looked at this body he once had held, a body that no longer looked faery-like but something much more morbid. There was nothing he could say. Niall wouldn’t listen to him. All he had to do was to let him go. He turned and, without looking back, got back to his court.

Time passed by. Finally, Niall got up, put on what was left of his clothes and staggered outside. He had to heal. He had to recover. The sun was shining, unaware of the faeries struggles. His body hurt. His mind was nothing but broken glass. He had nothing left. _Just my life._ Suddenly, he saw a shadow standing in front of him. _Please, just end this here. I can’t go on._ The shadow held out a hand, a man’s hand.

“Come with me.”

He gazed at the hand without a word. There was no gentleness when you dealt with faeries. It was nothing more than a contract. He wished he’d die from a final blow. That Irial would have killed him, skilfully, lovingly, intimately, as he knew he could. But Irial hadn’t and Niall wanted to live. He grabbed the hand and held on onto it tightly. He looked up.

“Miach.”  
“Come with me.”

And Niall followed him, as he had followed Irial centuries earlier. Because he wanted to live, from the bottom of his heart.

_Because Irial made it so._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, don't hesitate to comment and everything, I'd be glad to know what you thought of this!


End file.
